Raise Me Up
by librophile
Summary: Luke Skywalker was destined for greatness. But too often forgotten are the people who brought him there...
1. Chapter 1

Raise Me Up

Chapter One

* * *

_ Luke glanced up and gave a disbelieving laugh. "No, my father didn't fight in the Wars, he was a navigator on a spice freighter."_

_ Old Ben smiled slightly and replied, "That's what your __uncle__ told you."_

* * *

Obi-wan watched from the top of a sand dune as the day began, light from the two suns streaking the desert around him with its own kind of beauty. Hope – a rising sun gave so much access to the emotion, yet it bore little resemblance to the life he had chosen. He wondered what did.

A setting sun, perhaps.

Obi-wan resolutely pushed the resultant emotions out of his mind and set down the far side of the dune, leaving the suns behind the hill's imposing shadow as he strode purposefully toward the Lars homestead. He was running late, but there was still time to catch a glimpse of the reason he was out here.

A hope only six years old.

As Obi-wan stood in the darkness of the shadows, the sunken door opened, beaming a block of escaped light from the entry. Two figures came out. One was taller, silent and stoic, while the other was barely over half his height and spouting questions faster than anyone could answer. Obi-wan couldn't see their faces in this lighting, but it didn't matter. He had come to know the inhabitants of this house well enough in the past six years.

Owen Lars and his nephew, Luke, walked toward the landspeeder parked outside and into Obi-wan's hearing range. Luke was still spouting questions, most of which consisted of convoluted phrases his uncle would have had little hope of deciphering if he tried.

"Why is my name different than yours?"

The innocent question, haphazardly thrown in with the medley of words Luke had been creating, brought Owen up short. He glanced around automatically. Once his gaze wandered Obi-wan's direction, but the former Jedi didn't flinch as Owen's gaze slid right past him. Owen hadn't detected his morning surveillance every day for the past four years, and there was no reason today should be any different.

Owen appeared to choke on his words for a moment, then finally addressed Luke. "What brought that up?"

Luke shrugged. "Most of my friends have the same name as whoever they're living with. I just wondered why mine was different."

Owen glanced at him again. Obi-wan received the sudden impression he was considering ignoring the question. Luke looked innocently up at him, waiting.

Owen's shoulder's abruptly slumped before he drew them up again. He replied, "You have your father's name, Luke."

"Oh." Luke was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Why do I still have it?"

Owen glanced sharply at him, then replied, "Because it belongs to you. Now get in."

As he watched Luke climb into the speeder, Obi-wan remembered the single condition he had placed at the time he was giving Luke into his family's care. _'He must keep his name,'_ he had stated. _'Whatever happens, he must keep his name. It is all he has left.'_

Owen had fussed about the risks of this condition, but Beru had simply met his eyes and promised, _'He will always be a Skywalker.'_

_Bless you, Beru._

Obi-wan drew a deep breath and watched as the speeder vanished in the distance, then started his own trip across the desert. It was time to resume his place as Ben, the man few knew anything about and fewer his purpose here. But now he had another hope to hold onto in his solitary life.

In a galaxy busily turning itself upside down, it was good to know there were still people out there you could trust.

* * *

_(The spelling of "Obi-wan" in this fic is completely intentional. In A New Hope in the original credits this was the correct spelling; the other spelling of "Obi-Wan" didn't appear until the books started coming out.)_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

_ Owen had always been a stubborn man. Old Ben knew this more clearly than ever as he looked on the clueless son of his old friend, trying to convey what he could without turning Luke against the man who had raised him all these years. Speaking carefully, Ben said, "He didn't hold with your father's ideals, thought he should have stayed here and not gotten involved."_

* * *

Beru looked up and smiled as her husband and nephew came in, shaking sand from their boots and wind-blown hair. "You're home early," she commented, placing the pan she was holding on the table to cool. "Did the speeder give you trouble?"

"There's a storm coming up," Owen replied. He turned and told Luke gruffly, "Go put that gear you're holding in the shop. We'll work on it later."

"But…"

Owen gave him a look.

Luke sighed. "All right."

Beru watched Luke trudge out of the room. "What's bothering you, Owen? Usually you sit down and work with him after you get back."

"I'm tired," he replied shortly. Owen pulled a seat out from the table and sat down, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Beru gently touched his shoulder as she sat down beside him. "Owen, what's wrong? Luke looked…" Her voice trailed off. There had been something eager in his expression, something free that he was trying to suppress for his uncle's sake. "What happened?"

Owen took his head from his hands and folded his arms on the table. He stared at them. "Luke wants to leave." He laughed morosely. "Twelve years old, and he wants to sign on to one of those ships at the spaceport and never look back."

"His father was nine, Owen," Beru reminded him, trying to calm him even as her own heart lurched with the thought.

"His father was a slave!" Owen cried out. "Luke is free to work for his own benefit, free to have friends and privileges his father only dreamed of."

Beru braced herself. He wasn't going to like this, but it needed to be said. "He's also free to think, Owen," she replied, her voice gentle. "He's a Skywalker. You know his father hated to not be involved."

"He's not his father."

"His mother was the same way, Owen. Or have you forgotten?"

Owen stood abruptly and left the table, leaving Beru to pray he'd understood what she was trying to say.

The next week the Tuskens conveniently raided a home nearer Mos Eisley. Owen took advantage of the situation to mandate that Luke be home before dark, always traveled with company and never went beyond Anchorhead without permission. Luke chafed under the new restrictions, but obediently kept them to the letter until the sting wore off and he no longer minded.

Still, every now and then a restless look would creep into Luke's eyes. It would always fade away in moments, but Beru couldn't help but see it as an omen.

Someday, Luke was going to break free of a farmer's life and make his mark on the galaxy. She could only hope that when the time came he would be ready for the challenge.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

* * *

_ "I have something for you." Old Ben stood and crossed the room to the trunk in the corner, and raised the lid to take a single item from its interior. "Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn't allow it…"_

* * *

Owen set down the unit he had been working on and wiped a hand across his brow. He glanced at Luke. His nephew, he noticed, had already repaired one unit and was hard at work on another one. He was incredibly proficient with machines.

Like his father…

Owen angrily shoved the thought to the back of his mind. The last thing he needed was memories of his step-brother plaguing his mind. Especially in connection to the boy sitting, oblivious to Owen's thoughts, only a few feet away.

Luke made a final adjustment and snapped the door shut. "Done! Now can we…" He trailed off at the disbelieving look on Owen's face and smiled sheepishly. "I guess I got a little carried away." Awkwardly, he added, "Do you want me to get that new unit we got yesterday?"

Owen paused. There was no need to rush, but Luke was impatient to do something and retrieving a cooling unit was hardly going to do any harm. It was unlikely he would run into any trouble either, since the last time he had seen trace of Sand People was a week ago, and the tracks had turned sharply once they came within range. Something must have scared them off.

He glanced at his nephew. "All right. Be careful, we don't need it damaged."

Luke's eyes lit up and he brushed off the gentle reprimand with the words, "I'll be careful."

Owen bent over the vaporator again as Luke moved quickly toward the speeder. A sudden roar made him jump. "LUKE!" He whirled to see the speeder shoot off as if chased by a krayt dragon.

Owen shook his head in exasperation. What was he going to do with that boy? A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth before he quickly checked it and focused on his task again.

A quiet step behind him had Owen grabbing for his rifle and whirling to see a hooded figure behind him. He pointed the weapon at him for a moment until recognition dawned. A touch of frustration flashed through him – Of all the people he _didn't_ want to talk to right now…

He lowered the weapon. "Ben," he muttered.

The figure pulled the hood from his head to meet Owen's eyes. "Owen," he returned.

Frustration rose again. Owen glared. "Why are you here?" he snapped before he could check himself. He instantly regretted it. How would the former Jedi react to such a tone?

Obi-wan didn't even flinch. "I came to talk to you," he replied, folding his arms into his huge sleeves. "About the boy."

Owen looked warily at him. "He stays with us, if that's what you mean."

A wry chuckle came from the man. "I wasn't going to debate that."

"Then what is it?" Owen demanded. The old warrior certainly hadn't walked all this way just to tell him Luke was in no danger – he knew that much.

Unless the Empire had discovered him.

"He's safe. I came about a different matter."

Owen had forgotten how irritating it was to converse with someone who seemed to read your very thoughts. Obi-wan continued, "It's about his future."

The old man reached into his robe and drew out a familiar silver cylinder. A lightsaber.

Obi-wan held it thoughtfully and continued, "This was his father's."

Owen instinctively bristled. "I won't have you teaching him…"

"It was his last request," Obi-wan continued relentlessly, fixing Owen with a steady stare that froze him in place. "He wanted his son trained as a Jedi when he reached the proper age."

"The boy is only two weeks past thirteen!"

The Jedi appeared unperturbed. "Most Jedi begin their training before the age of six."

Owen drew himself up, eyes snapping angrily. "He is _my_ charge."

"Which is why I came to you first." The statement floored Owen's thoughts long enough for Obi-wan to continue, "He is the proper age now to become a Jedi."

"He will not be a Jedi," Owen snapped.

Obi-wan looked at him quietly. His eyes were sad but knowing as he replied, "When Luke comes of age, that will be _his_ decision."

The whine of a returning speeder drew both their gazes toward Luke as he carefully maneuvered the top-heavy vehicle to a stop. He vaulted over the side and headed toward the two men. "I got the cooling unit, Uncle Owen!" Then, looking curiously at Obi-wan, he added, "Hello."

Owen glanced automatically toward the Jedi's hands, but Ben had already hidden the betraying heirloom. The man met his eyes one last time and turned to go.

Just as he was about to turn back to Luke, Owen noticed a limp in Obi-wan's stride. He frowned. _How could a Jedi get hurt badly enough to…_ The image of a Tusken spear flashed unbidden through his mind. _Unless…_

"Wait!" The words were out before Owen could call them back, and he found himself striding toward the old hermit. Obi-wan had stopped and turned back, curious.

"You're hurt." Owen frowned at the wince Ben displayed at being found out before noticing the slightly nicked cloak. It looked as if he'd been fighting.

His mind flashed back to those tracks at the border. _So that's what happened._

This time it was Owen who forced Obi-wan to meet his eyes. "You shouldn't go back alone."

"I'll manage."

Ben and Owen exchanged a stubborn look. Neither was willing to give in until Luke commented unexpectedly, "You could come back with us. I'm sure Aunt Beru could fix you up."

Obi-wan gave in. "All right."

Owen headed for the tools scattered about the unit as Luke helped Ben into the speeder. He couldn't help but overhear as Luke asked suddenly, "What's your name?"

A pause. "Ben Kenobi."

"Have I see you before?"

Ben chuckled as Owen loaded the tools. "Possibly. Why do you ask?"

"You feel familiar." Owen jerked around to stare at the boy as he continued innocently, "It was when I was very young…"

"You have a strong faith in people, young Luke," Ben commented. "It's a rare trait where so few can be trusted."

Owen climbed into the driver's seat next to Luke as his nephew met Obi-wan's gaze squarely and replied, "I trust you."

Any answer was swept away by the wind.


End file.
